


Firebrands and Sawed-off Shotguns

by antigrav_vector



Series: Bingo - Western AU [7]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 1872, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Secret Wars Battleworlds
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Western, Blood, Blood and Gore, Cap_Ironman Bingo, Crossover, Gore, M/M, Mild Gore, Multiverse, Stony Bingo, Stony Bingo 2016, Unrequited Crush, but it is there, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 09:25:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8322568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antigrav_vector/pseuds/antigrav_vector
Summary: Mayor Fisk tries again, but Tony's not caught unawares. It's Mrs. Barnes that saves the day, though.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for the "Nanites Are (Not) the Answer" prompt on my bingo card. Betaed by [navaan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan).

This time they waited until long after midnight to strike.

Sometime in those god forsaken hours between midnight and false dawn, long after everyone but Mrs. Barnes had left to go to bed in their own homes, when Tony was the only one still awake.

They came, interrupting restless thoughts about home and multiverse theory, and clearly searching for something. Or someone.

Tony strongly suspected that someone was him and the something was his suitcase suit. They might not have the first clue what it was, but they clearly knew it was something special. Who carried a red metallic suitcase in this time, after all? No one. Except him. 

They weren't overly stealthy, thinking that since everyone was in bed, they didn't have to be.

As Tony lay on the bed in the guest bedroom, still fully dressed and staring at the cracks in the ceiling in lieu of bothering to attempt to sleep, the thump of a body hitting the ground and soft cursing drifted in through his open window.

They had found out where he was somehow.

Probably because everyone had been gathered here. That kind of thing wasn't easy to disguise, and Tony doubted that this group had even bothered to try. Subterfuge was clearly not their strong suit.

Biting back a curse of his own that would give away that he wasn't as asleep as the trespassers thought, Tony grabbed up his suitcase suit out of pure reflex and made his way quietly down the stairs to the sitting room they had been in earlier that afternoon for their strategy session. It had felt more like an argument to Tony, but there had been a more or less workable plan at the end, so he supposed it counted.

He peered through the gloom, well aware that lighting any kind of lamp would give him away instantly, wondering whether Mrs. Barnes had any weapons stashed away in the room. He didn't want to use the suit if he could avoid it, so as not to give away what the suitcase was. If he did that, Fisk's attempts to take it would only intensify further. Those dire thoughts in mind, Tony felt along the undersides of the tables and sofas in the room; he couldn't imagine the Natasha in his universe not having a weapon in each room of her house. He kind of thought this one would do the same.

He didn't find anything, though. Not before whoever was outside had reached the door and started working the lock.

Tony had to bite back a loud yelp when Mrs. Barnes materialized out of thin air at his elbow and hissed, "Who are they?"

Forcing his breathing back into a normal rhythm and setting down his suitcase where it would be out of the way if a scuffle broke out, Tony shrugged. "No idea," he murmured, "but I suspect they're Fisk's men."

The lock on the door clicked open, and six men filed quietly into the small foyer, careful now that they were walking on wooden floorboards that could creak loudly if they stepped on the wrong points. Tony could see that another six stood guard outside.

He turned to ask Mrs. Barnes what the plan was, found empty air, and then winced when he heard the very distinctive sound of someone cocking a shotgun. "Y'all had better have a damned good reason to break into my house," Mrs. Barnes growled at them, and fucked if that wasn't almost as attractive as Steve's command voice.

Forcing the thought aside, Tony refocused his attention; now was _not_ the time.

"Well, now, little lady," one of the men drawled in reply, leering, "why don't you put that gun down before you hurt someone, and keep outta things that ain't none of your business."

Mrs. Barnes calmly kept the gun braced against her shoulder and trained on the man Tony suspected was the leader. "And if I refuse?" She asked, not batting an eye.

"Then we get to persuade you," the man said with a grin that made Tony tense, anticipating a lot of violence. He wasn't wrong, either.

The leader of the group stepped towards Mrs. Barnes, obviously not expecting her to have the balls to pull the trigger. He was wrong.

Mrs. Barnes fired the gun at his face from point blank range, and the man dropped, a scream literally bubbling free of his half shredded and bleeding face. She'd used buckshot, and clearly felt no compunctions about it. Tony had to agree with the brutal efficiency of the move, even as he felt the need to vomit rising.

While he could appreciate that the guy would probably live, albeit with a very disfigured face, he'd never had to actually witness someone getting shot in the face, and it was proving to be one hell of a distraction. As Tony stared at the man and tried not to let himself just curl up in a corner to ride out his reaction to the scene, he heard another shot go off. Louder than any of the pistols he knew the gang of goons was likely packing would have been.

Swallowing hard to clear the taste of bile from his mouth and standing, Tony hurriedly made his way around the scuffle suddenly taking place in the foyer. Skirting the group of men, he lifted as many of their pistols out of their holsters he could and dumped their ammo on the floor.

Mrs. Barnes was using her discharged shotgun as an improvised staff, blocking attacks with it and hitting anyone in reach with the barrel. She was leaving a larger swathe of groaning bodies behind her this way than she had with the two shots she'd fired.

The fight was over in minutes, with Mrs. Barnes the clear victor, and the men stationed outside making a break for freedom before she could reload.

She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. "Damn it all to hell. Now Fisk will be on us with everything he's got. You'll have to hide out in the canyon for a few nights."

"What about you?" Tony wanted to know.

"I have resources Fisk has no idea exist. I'll be fine." She eyed him knowingly. "You, on the other hand, don't."

\------


End file.
